


Bells On, Jeeves

by SilverStarlet



Category: Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:11:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverStarlet/pseuds/SilverStarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although Christmas in the Wooster household is normally a quiet affair a visit from a loved but loathed Aunt may change Bertie's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I managed to delete my own work by accident. Silly me! 
> 
> I will try to post every couple of days at absolute minimum!

Bells On, Jeeves

December 1st:

 

Are you aware that there is a five o’clock in the morning? I have often arrived home at such an ungodly hour in my younger and unfortunately fitter years but never have I been so rudely awoken at this hour. Normally, I am a very sound sleeper. In the winter months I go through something akin to hibernation. It is a very comforting experience. However, on this December 1st I woke up to hear an interesting sound coming from the living room. A musical sound. Jeeves was singing softly. I am sure that this was not the sound that awoke me, as singing often lulls me into a deep slumber, so I get out of bed to investigate.

The sight upon entering the living room was enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. The place was entirely decked out with Christmas decorations. In the Wooster household when I was a child, there were several Christmas trees but no other forms of decorations. A complaint was often made by the servants that any more festive arrangements would make the place look gaudy and my parents were often suckers to their servants. Or had a lack of taste, of course. An awful lot like me.

However, the Wooster flat of present day looked beautiful. There was no other word for it. It glittered and gave off lovely green, red and silver hues. The four foot tree placed beside the piano was still bare and my heart leapt. A childish thing, perhaps, but decorating the tree sounded elating –if elating means heart-warming – and for once in my life I didn’t mind dreadfully that I was up before the sun was.

“Jeeves!” I exclaimed with joy. Jeeves who had been dusting baubles almost jumped out of his skin. When he turned around an apologetic look played around his stoic features.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He apologises but I’m already picking out a silver bauble from the box.

“Don’t worry about it this time, my man. Not when you’ve turned this place into a veritable winter wonderland.” I beam at the valet who almost smiles back. I can tell, as I often can, that something is on his mind though. I allow myself to think no further on it whilst decorating the tree alongside him. He does move several of the baubles I place on the tree but I just nodded in agreement. His taste in these matters is undoubtedly superior.

“So, why this year? Feeling more in the holiday spirit?” I asked.

“I always appreciate the Christmas season, sir, minus the cold weather but in this case I did it for a family member of yours.” He said with a tone of discomfort. I shuddered both audibly and visibly.

“December is the only time of year I usually get to myself! Until the actual festivities themselves of course but…”

“It is Lady Worpleston who wishes to join us for the duration of the month.” I wobble a little before sitting down on the armchair.

“Aunt Agatha.” I whined. “The destroyer of Christmas cheer!”


	2. December 2nd

Bells On, Jeeves

December 2nd:  
Although Christmas at the Wooster residence was normally a demure affair – with eggnog and carols at most – I found myself ever more the advocate of Christmas cheer. There is something about people who have no Christmas cheer and are very generally Bah Humbug bringers that make a man want to push as much Christmas cheer onto them as possible. This made me realise just how perceptive Jeeves can be. Whether or not he could tell that my Aunt Agatha was the exact opposite of the spirit of Christmas or not, was one thing, but the fact that he had decorated the place like this had made a good starting point for my newest endeavour.  
Aunt Agatha came early in the morning of the 2nd of December. She made her presence known by barging into my bedroom at full speed. Her initial reaction inspired much hope in me.  
“Hello nitwit! The place looks good.” She chirped, if a woman with such a booming voice can truly chirp. I sat up a little sleepily. The early start yesterday seemed to have thrown off my equilibrium – if that’s the right word.  
“It does, doesn’t it?” I replied with a yawn. She nodded whilst picking at a brandy stain on my bed that had occurred last night.  
“It’s a darn sight better than looking at your moulding walls!” I sighed loudly. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good start after all. 

After Aunt Agatha had rested from her travels and I had breakfasted at a reasonable hour of eleven am. I suggested to her that we should do something in the afternoon.  
“What about you help me hat shop? I need a new hat and Jeeves tells me that my taste is appalling. Perhaps a woman’s view would be better?” I tried to butter her up a little. I am her least favourite nephew after all.  
“Why would I help you hat shop? That sounds ghastly. And there are so many carollers this year, I couldn’t bear to be anywhere near…”  
“You can’t stay cooped up in here all day. There are things to be seen and done!” I interrupt which puts Aunt Agatha on a tutting spree.  
“Don’t interrupt, you ass! I’m not spending the day indoors. I’m lunching with an old school friend of mine. In a quiet corner of town.”  
“At least walk me to the shop.” I attempt to play the needy nephew in hope it plays to her remotely motherly heart.  
“If you shut up about it, I will.” Aunt Agatha gives in finally. “Although I don’t see why I should.” 

The carollers were singing beautifully that day. I found myself whistling along on more than one occasion as we walked along. Aunt Agatha wore a pained face as we walked by the carollers.  
“Christmas is such a sham now. It’s not like what it was when I was young.” She exclaims angrily. I sighed once again. 

Perhaps this would be a lot more work that I had thought.


End file.
